Ever So Slightly
by Winter Ashby
Summary: Ulquiorra reflects on the curiosity of his decision to leave Kurosaki alive at the end of their fight. It might have something to do with that woman who's face he can't get out of his mind. [Ulquiorra & Orihime] Chapter 274


**Title**: Ever So Slightly  
**Author**: Winter Ashby (rosweldrmr)  
**Disclaimer**: Bleach © Tite Kubo  
**Rating**: K+  
**Warnings**: Spoilers through chapter 274 of the manga  
**Summary**: Ulquiorra reflects on the curiosity of his decision to leave Kurosaki alive at the end of their fight. It might have something to do with that woman who's face he can't get out of his mind. (Ulquiorra & Orihime)  
**Authors Notes**: Yay! I jumped on the UlquiHime bandwagon! Come along, and join the ride.

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Ulquiorra stared at the limp body at his feet. The bright orange hair is stained, matted with blood. And the black shinigami robes are tattered and in shreds in a pool of crimson. He looks at the pathetic creator and prepares to deliver the final blow.

But then, it comes again. The face of that woman.

The human that Aizen-sama regards so highly. Trash, useless waste of flesh and bones that he could so easily crush.

He wants to crush her. Because for the second time in this short, relatively uneventful fight, her face, tear-streaked and trembling, came into his mind, unbidden. He hates her, hates the look in her eyes when she begs him to stop talking about her precious namaka. He hates the other look, that determined, strong, unrightfully so, look that she had when she slapped him.

Her unworthy, putrid human hand on his face.

He saw her face before in this fight. When the boy surprised him. Before the smoke cleared, he saw her face and shook with rage. He wanted to obliterate that stupid boy. It was all because of him that Ulquiorra was stuck baby sitting the human woman, making sure none of the other Espada or Arrancars attacked her, as they were sure to.

And he felt a twinge, a slight pull at a tether in his chest. He'd been away too long as it was. He looked down again, at the broken body and felt a wave of disgust.

_This_ is what all those tears, the goodbye, the slap, the courage was for? _This_ pitiful little boy that he, number 4 only, defeated so easily, without so much as trying?

He'd touched his cheek, in the dust, before it cleared and his cero nearly killed the boy. He didn't know why he did it, really. It was a worthless gesture. He almost wished his cheek still stung, at least he'd have a reason to touch his own face and think of her then. But as it was, it was just infuriating.

So he spun and told the shinigami, if it was still alive to leave. And if not, then to die. He was too preoccupied to care. He needed to get back to her cell, to make sure she was unharmed. He'd let his guard down, and abandoned his post when he felt the Reiatsu. But now he was restless. He needed to get back.

He had a bad feeling about this.

He knew she'd be able to feel the loss of Reiatsu and the idea of her crying made him furious. How dare she cry for this weakling, who was nothing? Even she, being mortal and fragile was more valuable than this boy. Aizen-sama desired her, and all she could think about was this misbegotten band of fools that had more balls than brains.

They should have known they would be no match for the Espada. And after he went through all the trouble to discredit her, to let her come on her own? It was insulting, to him, to her, and to Aizen-sama. How could they be so brash as to think that they would be able to stand up to the man who created the Espada, who infiltrated the Gotei 13, the man who created the Arrancars, the Números, and the Privaron?

He wanted to destroy them all, every single one of them. For making her cry, because it made her weak, more so than she was.

She was his. She was his responsibility, and she was his to control. If she was going to cry, at least it would be he who was doing the destruction. If she was going to be bold and rash, then it was going to be his cheek that she made tingle for a second.

It was a strange feeling. The prickling that spiraled from the cold skin on his cheek. It was rare for him to feel anything, whether it was because he was beyond trivial things like the experiencing the tactile world, or because of the process of becoming an arrancar that striped the unnecessary sense. But whatever it was, he couldn't remember _feeling_ anything for a very long time.

He wondered what she's do now, when he told her than it was him who ruined her precious _Kurosaki-kun_. Maybe she'd hit him again.

The corners of his lips quirked just slightly, only ever just so slightly at the thought. He was anxious to see her again.

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I hoped you all enjoyed it. Tell me what you thought of it.


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